The school bell rang, signaling the end of another mundane day. Ichigo Kurosaki, his mind clouded with thoughts of Hollow hunting, slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out of the classroom.
The sounds of students chattering and laughing filled the hallways, but Ichigo barely registered any of it. He was already thinking ahead, weighing his options for training tonight.
The familiar route home greeted him. The sidewalks were lined with trees, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the pavement. He sighed, looking up at the sky, a feeling of unease slowly creeping up his spine.
It had been a week since he started hunting the Hollows, and with each night, he felt stronger—more in control. But something about today felt different. Like a storm was coming, and he didn't know when or where it would strike.
As he walked, his gaze drifted to a small alley where he remembered seeing the little girl just a few days ago that died in this area.
A group of delinquents—four guys, all dressed in baggy clothes and skateboards under their feet—were milling around, laughing obnoxiously as they kicked up dust and dirt in the alleyway.
'Fucken delinquents.'
Ichigo's eyes narrowed further as his gaze shifted to the floor. There, in the middle of the alley, was the small, delicate vase the girl had been carrying. It was cracked, its once-beautiful porcelain now shattered into pieces.
Without even thinking, Ichigo walked over to the broken vase, crouching down beside it. His fingers lightly brushed the fragments, the cold pieces cutting into his skin just enough to draw his attention. His anger started to bubble up, his usual calm demeanor slowly slipping away. He stood up, clenching his fists.
One of the skaters caught sight of him and grinned.
"Hey, you got a problem, dude?" the guy called out, clearly in no mood to back down.
Ichigo didn't answer right away. He stared down at the vase, the broken pieces reflecting the last vestiges of sunlight. The memory of the little girl's face, her bloodied face.
With a deep breath, Ichigo turned his gaze toward the group of delinquents. His eyes were cold now, the usual warmth replaced by something far more dangerous.
"You guys should leave," Ichigo said quietly, his voice low but carrying an undeniable weight.
The leader of the group, a lanky guy with spiky hair, scoffed and took a step forward. "What, you think we care about what you say?"
Ichigo didn't respond. His Reiatsu started to leak out, though just a fraction of it. The air around him seemed to grow heavier, and the temperature dropped, causing the delinquents to pause.
A moment passed before the guy with the spiky hair finally noticed the change. He looked at his friends, who were all now eyeing Ichigo warily, but they didn't say anything. They didn't have to.
"Forget this guy," the leader mumbled, stepping back and signaling for his friends to follow. "Let's go."
Ichigo watched them retreat, the group of delinquents disappearing down the alley. He stood there for a few seconds longer, his eyes still locked on the shards of the vase.
He had no idea why it bothered him so much. Maybe it was because he saw the innocence in the girl's eyes, and seeing that innocence trampled by these idiots made him furious.
'It's not just the vase,' he thought to himself. 'It's that these guys don't even care about the damage they cause.'
Sighing, Ichigo crouched down once more, picking up the largest shard of the vase. He held it in his hand for a moment before placing it back on the ground gently, as though paying respect to what was broken.
With a final glance at the alley, he turned and began walking home.
As he walked away, a feeling deep inside him told him that this was just the beginning.
When Ichigo arrived home, he ate quickly and then retreated to his room. The house was quiet, and he took a moment to let out a small amount of his Reiatsu, feeling the energy flow from him.
'Today is the day I meet Rukia. What happened there is what happened in the manga. She'll be here around 2 or 3 am. It was supposed to be a Friday, guess she was sent a bit earlier due to the sudden change in Karakura Town.' Ichigo thought, a slight smirk rising on his face.
He was excited, though he tried not to show it too much. He'd been anticipating this moment for a while now, and despite everything, he couldn't help but feel that strange thrill of knowing what was about to happen.
The night passed slowly, but Ichigo stayed focused. He was sat on his bed, waiting. Then, at last, he felt it—the unmistakable pressure of a spiritual energy that was neither human nor hollow. Rukia was here.
His smirk deepened as he felt her presence approach, and in an instant, she phased through the wall, her form materializing before him. Rukia Kuchiki, in all her seriousness and grace, stood before him. Her black uniform, marked with the white trim of a Soul Reaper, caught the dim light of the room, highlighting her sharp features. She looked around, scanning the room with the alertness of someone who was always ready for a fight.
"…It's close." Her voice was low and serious, her eyes searching for the Reiatsu that had caught her attention.
Ichigo couldn't hold back his chuckle, the sound of his amusement breaking the silence. She had no idea what she had just walked into.
Rukia froze, her eyes snapping to him as she realized someone else was there. He was sitting on his bed, his posture relaxed, with an amused smirk dancing on his face. The sight of her, clearly not expecting him to notice her so easily, made him even more entertained.
'Does he see me?' Rukia wondered, slightly stunned, as she took in the situation.
Ichigo couldn't help himself. "Yes, I do see you," he said with a smirk, standing up casually. His tone was almost mocking, but there was something sharp in his eyes as he sized her up. He wasn't nervous. Not at all. In fact, he was more curious than anything.
Rukia's shock was palpable. She took a half step back, instinctively reaching for her sword, though her fingers never quite touched it. The tension between them was immediate, the air thick with an unspoken challenge. She hadn't expected a human to be able to see her, let alone be so unfazed by her presence.
"What's up?" Ichigo asked nonchalantly, as though his world hadn't just shifted entirely.
Rukia blinked at him. She had been sent here to deal with a spiritual anomaly, but this boy—this human—was not acting like any other human she had encountered before. He wasn't terrified. He wasn't confused. He was just… observing her. It was unsettling.
"I thought humans couldn't see us," Rukia finally managed, her hand still hovering near her sword. She narrowed her eyes, trying to read him.
Ichigo shrugged. "Guess I'm different. So explain to me why you're in my room."
He leaned back against the edge of his bed, crossing his arms as he gave Rukia a slightly amused look. He still couldn't believe this was happening—meeting someone from the Soul Society in his room at this hour—but there was an odd sense of calm about it all.
Rukia, though still on edge, took a deep breath. "I've been sent here to deal with the spirits in this town."
Ichigo raised an eyebrow, his smirk not faltering. "Makes sense honestly," he said with a nod.
"Oh, so you believe me now?" she asked, surprised by his quick acceptance. She sighed in relief, feeling the weight of the situation start to lift. "I kind of expected you to think I was crazy."
Ichigo almost spoke up but froze when the air in the room shifted. A soft creaking sound filled the space, followed by a chilling breeze. A flicker of movement caught his eye, and before he could react, a translucent figure appeared in the corner of his room. It was a ghost—a spirit of someone who had passed.
Without missing a beat, Rukia swiftly drew her sword. The glint of her blade cut through the dim light of the room. She spun around, moving with a fluidity that seemed almost instinctual, her eyes focused on the spirit.
Ichigo barely had time to blink before Rukia tapped the man's forehead with the flat of her sword. The instant her blade made contact, a circular, glowing portal-like symbol materialized behind the ghost. It spun with eerie speed, emitting a soft hum, and in a flash, the man was sucked into it.
"Wha—" Ichigo started, his mouth going dry with surprise.
The portal disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, leaving nothing but the faintest shimmer in the air.
Ichigo watched her, wide-eyed but composed, his curiosity now piqued. "So is that how you take ghosts to the Soul Society?" he asked, still trying to process what had just happened.
Rukia turned to him, her sword still in hand. She relaxed slightly, putting the blade away, and gave him a knowing look. "Is that a guess?" she asked, her tone almost playful.
"Yeah," Ichigo replied, his eyes narrowing slightly as he sized her up, still trying to piece things together.
"Good guess," Rukia acknowledged, her voice losing some of its earlier tension. She sat down at his desk, pulling out a piece of paper and a pencil from her pocket. "Let me explain. There are two types of souls in this realm," she said.
TO BE CONTINUED